Buildings and trees disappeared before his eyes as he navigated through the city. Marco's 3DMG was running out of fuel, and quickly. He couldn't keep running from the titans. There were too many. He knew he wouldn't reach the wall in time to save himself. Might as well take a few of them down with me. I have to protect as many people as I can.
A scream echoed to his left. People wouldn't stop screaming- soldiers and citizens alike. He tapped his air canister one last time. Not enough left. Marco twisted himself towards the left and flew off. I'm going to save someone. I have to. For humanity, Marco would try his hardest.
It's ugly mug stared him in the face, laughing as it saw another meal come towards it. Meal wasn't exactly the right- the titans only chewed them up and spit them back out. Hardly a satisfying meal to anyone. His eyes flickered with indecision. He could run. He could hide. He could hope to be saved. Or he could try to be a hero in his last moments.
"P-please! It has my children!" The monster had two young girls gripped in its palm. Once he realized that, his fate was already locked in.
Marco looked up once at the sky and whispered to the clouds, "I'm so sorry, Jean."
"Hey, have you guys seen Marco?" Jean kept asking everyone he came across if they had seen his favorite freckled-boy, and he kept getting the same answer: no. He was beginning to panic. What if Marco had died in the battle? What if he never saw him again? What if we never get the chance to joke around together again? What if...
It was their first day of training and everyone was beyond exhausted. Shadis had intimidated half of the people there into leaving, and the other half were either terrified or excited. You have to be insane like Jaeger to be excited about this. Jean's eyes scanned the room for someone to talk to. A distraction, even if it'd only last for a while. His eyes passed over a few people he didn't know yet. He decided to sit down at an empty table and whoever came to sit would have to do. He hoped that he might even find a sparring partner.
A gentle-looking and freckled boy opened the door to the mess hall and slipped in quietly. He, like Jean, had no idea who to approach or where to sit. Maybe I'll go sit with that guy. He looks pretty lonely, sitting all by himself!
"Hi, I'm Marco. Can I sit with you?" his smile shone as he politely asked.
"Sure. I'm Jean. Nice to meet you, Marco."
Later, as his knees sunk to the floor and his face crumpled into his hands, that one moment kept haunting him. It wouldn't go away. He knew it would never go away, and neither would Marco. For the latter, he was grateful.